


Government Oversight

by LongLiveLaura



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-19
Updated: 2009-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-03 09:03:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LongLiveLaura/pseuds/LongLiveLaura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom Zarek keeps an eye on Laura Roslin on New Caprica.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Government Oversight

**Author's Note:**

> Set during the New Caprica arc and originally written for the LJ bsg_pornbattle community. Prompt was Laura/Zarek, New Caprica showers.

Vice President Tom Zarek fancied himself a man of the people and it was that notion, as much as his self -serving politics, that fueled his desire to be _among_ the people. When he wasn't busy steering Gaius Baltar towards policy he himself believed vital for the betterment of humankind on New Caprica, he could be found strolling through the market place, watching a pick-up game of Pyramid, engaging the people - the _voters_ \- at any and every public event. He kept a tent in tent city and regularly hosted those he considered to be _his_ constituents. He enjoyed the benefits that came from allowing the people to believe he was not only the friendly face of the Colonial government, but also, and most importantly, one of their own. It would go a long way towards getting him elected when the huddled masses realized the mistake they'd made in voting Baltar into the office of the president.

Zarek's "Common Man" approach to courting the people solidified his acceptance in their world, provided him the cover he needed to move freely through their midst without drawing suspicion. That freedom allowed him to indulge in spending time at what had become his favorite spot on New Caprica: the communal showers. The facilities were housed in a spare, institutional concrete building and were hardly noteworthy. Accept for the fact that Laura Roslin made frequent use them.

The deposed president-turned-teacher's established pattern had her making her way to the showers every morning at roughly the same time, early enough to ensure that she was usually the only occupant. Tom had unobtrusively observed Laura's morning routine whenever he'd stayed in the city, was aware that two men loyal to Adama accompanied her and stood watch at the front of the building while she was inside. Though her guards didn't prevent anyone else from entering while Laura showered, they did alert her to the other person's presence on the rare occasion someone ventured out at that early hour.

After performing a thorough reconnaissance of the bath house under the guise of government inspection of the facilities, the vice president greased the palm of a couple city workers and set his plan in motion.

As had become his habit whenever he overnighted in tent city, Tom had risen before even a hint of dawn touched the New Caprican sky, slipped from his tent and walked the nearly deserted streets toward the public showers largely unnoticed. Checking his watch as he keyed into the building from the maintenance entrance around back, he was happy to see that he'd have plenty of time to settle in before Laura's arrival. On closing the metal security door behind him, Tom moved deftly around the plumbing and electrical equipment, circumnavigated the boxes of cleaning supplies and sat down on the familiar wooden bench in the small storage space. He reached out and pulled the grate from a vent in the brick wall in front of him, peered through the opening to the cavernous tiled space beyond. Satisfied with his unobstructed view of the long row of open stalls, confident that he couldn't be seen from the other side, the vice president leaned his back against the warm metal housing of the building's electrical unit and once again consulted his watch.

He looked up from the timepiece on his wrist when the sound of the front door banging closed echoed through the vast chamber on the other side of the mortared wall. Tom sat up straight and his cock twitched in anticipation as he watched Laura Roslin enter the showers, set her bag down on a long concrete bench jutting out from the tiled wall and begin removing her meager toiletries. Though he new from experience she wouldn't be wearing anything under the bulky sweater and black pants, his heart still quickened when she stripped out of her clothes and was so quickly bared to him.

As Laura gathered a threadbare towel and a sliver of bar soap and walked over to open the tap on the nearest showerhead, Tom unzipped his pants and withdrew his rapidly hardening dick from his briefs. He began stroking himself as Laura draped her thin towel over the chest-high block wall that separated her shower from the next stall. He craned his neck to watch when she turned to step under the spray, admired the muscled calves that flexed as she braced herself against the cool water, the feminine curves of her shapely ass, rounded hips that tapered to her slim waist. As she tipped her face into the spray and water washed over her head, her thick, henna curls straightened and lengthened down her narrow back with their wet weight. Tom thrilled at knowing he was the only witness to the sharpening contrast between her darkening locks and alabaster skin, tugged on his cock at the intimacy to which she unwittingly made him privy.

When Laura turned around and raised her arms to draw her hands over her face, her breasts lifted nicely. Tom was captivated by the sight of her pink nipples, peaked to perfection by the combination of cool water and chilled air, and wondered for the hundredth time what it would feel like to slide his cock between the two slippery mounds of flesh as Laura pushed them firmly together. He groaned and tightened the grip on his shaft as Laura began running soapy hands around her body.

Tom was pleasantly surprised when she lingered on her breasts, stunned when she bit her lower lip, cupped and kneaded them. He sucked in a breath and began pulling his cock through his fist as she slowly skimmed a hand over her belly and into the dark patch of hair between her legs. When Laura parted her legs, pushed a slender finger over her clit and into her folds with a stifled moan, Tom nearly came. He clenched his fingers around the base of his dick and bit down on his tongue - if he was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to watch Laura Roslin masturbate, he was damn well gonna make the most of it. He tore his eyes away from the vision in front of him, groaned and shuddered as a small amount of white fluid oozed from the purple head of his cock. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, squeezed his dick painfully and, mercifully, felt the urge to climax recede, the tingling in his balls subside. He jerked back up, returned his attention to Laura as he spread the hot, sticky fluid of his aborted orgasm up and down his length.

Laura stood at an angle to him, almost, but not quite, in profile. While he'd been looking away, she'd turned slightly, was supporting her weight with one hand flat on the tile of the dividing wall. She'd pushed her heavily soaked hair over her far shoulder, her head was hanging low and she appeared to be watching her other hand as she worked it between her legs. Tom watched the water from the shower stream down over her hips, the muscles of her ass contract as she rolled into her own touch. He imagined he could hear her fingers sloshing wetly through her pussy over the sound of water drumming on the floor around her.

Tom sped the pace and rhythm with which he pumped his dick into his fist to keep time with Laura's increasingly rapid movements. He skipped his gaze over her wet body, trying desperately to absorb every detail of her erotic performance so he could accurately replay the scene in his head in future. He noted her closed eyes and parted lips, the swell of her breasts as they rose and fell with each ragged breath she drew, the bony back of her pale hand as she thrust her fingers inside her body, her lean muscles pulled taut with the tension of building release.

The rising sense of urgency in Laura's motions culminated with a low-pitched moan that reverberated around the open space, drifted through the vent and fell on Tom's ear like sweet music. As he stroked his hard-on and watched anxiously, her body stiffened and her head fell back on her neck. She ground her hips into her hand with jerky circles and cried out as she came.

_"Bill,"_ she called, took a step closer to the wall to steady herself as an uncontrollable shudder wracked her body and left her trembling.

Bill. Bill _Adama?_ _Admiral_ Bill Adama? Was she thinking of frakking _him?_ Was she getting off on a memory of _actually_ frakking him? Bill Adama pounding into Laura from behind, frakking her with his fingers, eating her pussy, Laura on her knees with the admiral's cock in her mouth, sitting astride him and bouncing up and down on his cock - all these images rushed unbidden to Tom's mind and he came with a violent jerk of his pelvis and a choked groan. He gripped the bench with one hand, stroked his shaft with the other and shot stuttered jets of semen from the tip of his dick onto the wall in front of him.

As a ranking member of Baltar's administration, Tom had easy access to a seemingly unending line of women who were willing to frak him for no other reason than he was the vice president. And though he took frequent advantage of the perk, he never came as hard as he did when he was alone in the showers with Laura Roslin. And even then, he'd never come as hard as he just had in watching her pleasure herself. He could only imagine how explosive an orgasm he'd have if ever he actually frakked her.

"Godsdamnit," he panted as his cock continued to spasm in his hand and he watched closely to make sure he didn't get anything on his pants.

When he looked back up and through the vent at Laura, she was reaching for her towel, having already turned off the water. Tom usually enjoyed watching her dry off and redress as he calmed, but as she twisted her hair up in the towel and pulled clean clothes from her tote, his thoughts were racing. She pulled a pair of panties on and went to work on her bra and he wondered about Bill Adama. Tom knew the admiral visited the former president whenever his duties brought him planetside, knew, too, that he took monthly shore leave. Thinking back, Tom realized that whenever he'd seen Admiral Adama on New Caprica, he'd almost always been in the company of Laura Roslin. He could assume from her passionate exclamation that either the two of them had a sexual relationship or that, at the very least, Laura was sexually attracted to the man.

Tom watched her finish dressing and loop her damp towel through the handles of her bag. She shook her hair out, raked it back from her face and headed towards the door wearing a contented expression. Tom stuffed his flaccid cock into his briefs, fastened his trousers and made a mental note to look for a deviation in Laura's routine the next time Bill Adama was in town.


End file.
